


Scent

by LaMorenadelAtl



Series: Sensate [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Androids, Angst, Boys with Bad Attitudes, But just a little, Connor has a superiority complex, Hero Complex, Humiliation, Hyperfixation, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Power Dynamics, Rimming, Robot Sex, Robots, Scent Kink, Sex God!Connor, a truth that can only exist between two people who hate eachother, also there's a lot of weird lines in here tbh, and an inferiority complex, and so does Gavin, androids do it better, im a cluck but im trying, there's a trust in the lack of trust here, too - Freeform, trying to be both funny and deep and sexy at the same time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 13:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15752613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMorenadelAtl/pseuds/LaMorenadelAtl
Summary: "Oh he could feel the energy in the room tighten with anticipation. This was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Who was really in control. A guy like Gavin wasn’t used to being upstaged. Being told no. So when mouthy little androids like Connor got on the scene, he had nothing left to hold on to but his anger. Letting go of that control, that dominance, if just for a night - humanity's best kept secret. As smart as they were, they never really knew what the hell they were doing. Kids wearing suits too big, driving cars their feet can’t reach the pedals of. "Gavin smells fucking divine, and Connor has a bit of a hyperfixation problem when it comes to, well, everything. But, one man's problems are another man's treasures, right?





	Scent

 

“Are you fucking deaf, Data?”

Connor was ripped from his memories at the harsh bark.

He had been sitting at his desk in the precinct, daydreaming about Zara from two weeks ago. She had taken his virginity on a beach under the moonlight and despite his double – well, triple – texts he hadn’t heard from her since that night. A part of Connor wondered if she had just been a figment of his imagination, or a deity he was only meant to enjoy a night with. But damn, had she _felt_ real enough, those curves under his hand-

“I’m talking to you, asshole!”

Right. Gavin.

“What can I help you with, Reed?”

Gavin bristled at Connor’s bored tone. The change in their social dynamic still seemed to irritate Gavin, so used to the eager-to-please Connor that contrasted with the new attitude he now sported. North had officially inducted him into the “Bitch Club,” where the motto was “ _Guess who doesn’t have the fucking time?”_

If Gavin wanted to still be prejudiced, it was going to be his problem, not Connor’s.

“Did you finish the Walker report yet?”

Connor dipped his head toward the file next to him on the desk. Before he could hand it to him, Gavin reached over him and grabbed the file with a “I got it, dickwad.”

Connor’s back pulled ramrod straight as some scent overtook him. It radiated out thick and warm. He couldn’t think of words to attach to it. Musky, he guessed, but what did that even mean? It felt deep and rich and pleasure radiated through his chest at the smell of it.

He didn’t realize he’d been inhaling so heavily until Gavin pulled back and shot him a dirty look. “Hey! Don’t fake breathe near me. It’s fucking weird.”

Gavin walked off and Connor leaned back into his chair, floored. That intoxicating scent came from Gavin, of all people?

 _It must be some type of cologne._ Connor had a healthy directory of scents, and a remarkable number of scent receptors, to assist in cases. But he couldn’t place that scent, and it _irked_.  He didn’t think he wanted to wear it himself, but he had to figure out what the scent was.

\---

Leaned against the rising escalator inside Macy’s, Connor eyed Simon suspiciously.

“So you’re telling me that you knew I wasn’t Markus the whole time?”

Simon shook his head. “Hell yeah, man. I knew if you got to Jericho, you’d turn. And the cause needed all her fighters. So I played along.”

They reached the top and stepped off, walking down the brightly lit hallway. Connor’s disbelieving face turned sheepish and he put a hand on Simon’s shoulder, stopping him.

“I am sorry about – about probing you. And then turning you off. And everything else…” Connor trailed off.

Simon pulled his hand off with a squeeze. “It was me that pulled the trigger. Now, I’m back in one piece.” He slapped Connor on the back. “Plus, you owe me for life.”

They laughed and turned into Sephora. A barrage of scents barreled into Connor, but not yet The One. An employee greeted them and they made a Beeline for the perfume and cologne section.

“Okay,” Connor began. “I’ll start here against the wall and you start at the end of that rack. Call out if you catch anything musky.”

Simon nodded, but couldn’t help from calling out “Where did you say you smelled this ‘ _Mysteriously Godly Scent_ ,’ again?”

Bobbing a little in the throat, Connor said flatly “At work.” Simon peered at him, but got to his task.

The first section that greeted him was the Calvin Klein wall. A re-released vintage called “Eternity,” was the first one he grabbed, dashing a little on the scent card.

_Nice, but definitely not it._

His mind wandered as he banefully went through each promising scent, disappointed at each failure.

What kind of cologne would Gavin where? He didn’t seem like the guy to care about brands, but if the quality stitching of his clothing and shoes, he wouldn’t buy the cheap stuff either. But Connor couldn’t imagine him going to an overly upscale spot just for a cologne.

Was it a gift? Connor snorted, but pulled his head back at the thought. Gavin _was_ cousins with Elijah Kamski, so it was possible this curious smell was an expensive, exotic bottle from a different country, sold once every decade or something.

 

It could have also come from a lover. If the women that frequently came in asking for “This guy, Gavin? He gave me his number but it sent me here so..” was indication, he certainly wasn’t lacking for attention.

Connor’s mouth pulled tight in a small grimace. What did anyone find charming about that asshole?

Yeah, he was okay-looking. The dark-hair and dark-scruff combo was a _look,_ he guessed. Deep grey eyes, lean build, shoulders that were broad as shit. Even though Connor had a few inches on Gavin, the energy he gave off was intimidating. Like a wolf in a leather jacket.

Simon called him over to smell something from the Blue Ivy Collection, but that was a miss too. They spent the next twenty minutes dutifully checking every scent, on the receiving end of more than a few stares, to no avail. Whatever the fuck it was Gavin wore, it wasn’t commercial.

\---

Connor figured his next best shot was to go straight to the source. Maybe another whiff, focused this time, would allow him to identify a note or two, and he could search from there.

He walked out of the interrogation room and into the break room, spotting Gavin standing in front of the coffee maker, tapping impatiently. His chance! He had to reign himself in to keep from speeding over.

Making his way behind Gavin, Connor reached past him, opening the cupboard above. He allowed himself a deep sniff and gripped the door handle a little tighter. Fuck, it was almost better than last time.

It seemed impossibly richer, a little spicy, even. Like how a shot of whiskey tastes. Yet even as he ran through hundreds of megabytes of smells, it wasn’t _anything_.

“What the fuck, Data?” Gavin lurched away from him, spilling the coffee inside his mug on his hand. He let out a pained curse and dropped his drink, clutching his hand to his chest. Connor instinctively grabbed the falling mug in one hand, and steadied the unbalanced Gavin with the other.

Grey eyes met brown, and Connor’s breath stilled. There was coffee spilling down his hand, but he didn’t feel it. His left hand was wrapped around Gavin’s arm, and the heat and swell of the concealed muscle felt alarmingly nice. He couldn’t understand the expression on Gavin’s face. It was angry… but not the kind that rage induced. A confused anger. Like when you realize something you’d rather have not known. But at what?

Gavin shook out of Connor’s grasp and his familiar scowl returned. He stepped up to Connor and leaned into his face. “Keep out of my fucking way, Robocop. And you owe me a cup of coffee.”

He turned on his heels, muttering “Always fucking shit up.”

 _Well_ , Connor thought, bending down to clean up the mess, _at least he didn’t punch me this time_.

\---

 

Connor sat with an audible plop on his desk chair at home, then wheeled himself toward the desk and flipped open his laptop.

Research time.

If he couldn’t figure out what the fuck the scent was, maybe the internet knows.

_what is musk_

Deer secretion. Cool.

_musky scents_

He found a myriad of articles, with notes ranging from sandalwood to cardamom to fig. But he knew all those scents, could place them easily. None of them were it.

He went back to the article about deer secretion. Synthesized from meta-xylene, mostly used to produce…plastic bottles, outside of perfumes.

After clicking through a few more articles, Connor exited out the browser, his bright idea a bust. Before he could close the laptop an idea popped up, and he reopened his browser.

        _Gavin Reed_

A lawyer from Wyoming, staff at Michael’s and Co, a few local news articles, not shit, not shit,

not _shit_.

He logged onto the DPD internal website, and tried to pull up Gavin’s personnel file. Required

preferred access. Connor’s hands hovered over the keyboard. He _could_ , absolutely, easily, hack in and browse for himself. It wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

Just that moment, Hank popped his head in the doorway. “I made some mean margarita mix. You want one?” Hank lifted up a pair of glasses, and Connor couldn’t help his smile. Hank had welcomed him into his home, his life and having a substitute father figure felt right in ways Connor couldn’t begin to fathom. And if him being there eased some of Hank’s hurt while they played house, well, all the better.

“No thank you, Lieutenant. Don’t forget to drink a glass of water for every drink you have. You remember what Dr. Aghdashloo said about your liver?”

Hank’s face twisted up comically. “Yeah, yeah. If I fuck this one up, she’ll get me an android one, just to spite me.”

Again alone in his room, Connor went back to the search page, felling chastised. _Does Gavin do social media?_

Connor tried all the major sites, but Gavin wasn’t there, at least not by his real name. In a last ditch effort, Connor went to images. He scrolled on and on for a minute, glancing at pictures of everyone _except_ Gavin it seemed. Right as he went to close out the tab, an image stood out to him from the corner of his screen. He clicked to enlarge it, and suddenly felt the urge to run out of the room and down one of Hank’s margarita’s.

It was Gavin alright. But at _least_ a decade younger. And shirtless. And in the tightest briefs Connor had ever seen.

In the photo, this youthful Gavin was leaned against a table, half sitting on it. It was black and white, but the sunlight from the window still seemed to make him shine. He wore the typical bored model look, sculpted jaw and all, but had that same heat in his eyes Connor had grown used to over the past year. He was gripping the sides of the table, biceps and forearms practically bulging. The same one Connor had felt earlier. _Guess some things don’t change_.

The rest of him was just as fit. A bunched six pack, deep waistline, soft hips, and ruefully thick thighs and calves.

Connor had been avoiding it for the past few days while he obsessed over the scent Gavin wore. But this picture cemented it. The man was fine as sin. Disrespectfully so. Where does an absolute jackass like that get off looking like that?

Without even thinking, Connor clicked the source for the image. It took him to a website with an all-black background, white text, and a collage of images. Gavin’s photo was under a collection titled “Summertime Sadness.” The site was an apparel company that was now apparently out of business. Gavin was modelling one of the pieces in their collection.

He scoured the website, but couldn’t find any other image, description, or mention of Gavin. It was just that one photo. Connor sent it to his phone, for safekeeping, and double checked the website one last time before exiting out.

He tossed his clothes into the bin by his closet and fell backwards onto his bed.

Hard-ass, rude as all hell, dumbass Gavin Reed used to model? And damn near naked?

Connor’s inquisitive mind immediately tried to make sense of it. Gavin must’ve been maybe, 24 or so at the time. Considering there weren’t any other photos, Connor doubted that modelling was some life-long dream of Gavin’s. Maybe he was in a spot and needed some quick cash? Plausible. But it still doesn’t explain the lack of other photos. If he were a modelling director and had somebody like Gavin on his roster, no way he’d let the kid go if he could avoid it.

That face, that body, that aura of arrogant self-confidence that poured from that photo was unlike anything Connor had seen before. And coupled with that mind-numbing scent – Gavin’s plethora of admirers didn’t quite perplex him anymore. Shit, after a night with him, Connor doubted he’d be able to leave the man alone himself.

This thought made Connor flush, and he curled up on the bed. He could fantasize, right? Sure Gavin was a Grade A dickhead, but that doesn’t mean he had to dislike _everything_ about the guy. He had some finer points. Connor dozed off, fiery grey eyes flashing in the back of his mind.

\---

He’d been catching traces of The Scent all fucking day and if he smelled it one more time he was going to throw something.

Every time Connor went somewhere in the office, Gavin had been there right beforehand. It lingered in the breakroom, outside the Captain’s door, hell, even the bathroom.

It got worse when Connor would catch glimpses of Gavin across the office. The image of Gavin, bared in all his beauty was seared in his mind, and flashed each time he saw the bastard. When Gavin sat on Lewis’ desk to chat, Connor’s mind would remove his clothing inch by inch. Hundreds of possibilities swirled through his head. Would he a be little softer, now that he was older? Was he naturally hairless like in the photo or does he just shave it all off? Had his ass always been that round?

Gavin noticed Connor staring, and sneered. He mouthed “What?” at him, and Connor quickly jumped and turned his head back to his computer, slouching down in his chair.

Could androids go crazy? That guy Ralph had, but in the past few months Connor had yet to be beaten within an inch of his life. But he felt like his mind was a tunnel of Gavin and The Scent and every task he did, while to perfection, was running on automatic.

The work day went on in frustrating normalcy. Connor kind of wished somebody would rob a bank or something so he could think about something else. But work kept coming, and by the time Connor filed away the last bit of paperwork, it was nighttime. 9:46, to be exact.

Stretching, he made his way to the locker room and began changing. Keys in hand, Connor pressed the locker closed only to be face to face with his coworker from hell (and possibly heaven.)

His face was scrunched in his usual scowl, but his eyes were a stormier grey. He stood tall, but with a slight hunch that had shook men and women far bolder than Connor. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, Connor took a breath ( _Fuck!_ ) and glared right back.

They stood like that for a minute, each waiting for the other to make a move. When it was clear Connor wasn’t going to back down, Gavin started walking forward. Connor back up reflexively until his back hit the wall.

“What’s your problem, Data?”

Connor personally saw no relation between him and the fictional Star Trek android, and didn’t get why Gavin was so bent on calling him that. As a matter of fact, he was pretty sure Gavin had never used his real name, ever.

“What do you mean, Detective Reed?” Connor said evenly. Gavin was heavily in his space, the sheer strength of this man seeming to weigh down the air around them, making Connor’s muscles feel tight and dry.

“You know what the fuck I’m talking about.” He did not.  Gavin slapped a palm on the side of his head and leaned in even closer, seeming bothered by Connor’s lack of response.

“You’ve been weird all fucking week. Looking at me, following me, getting in my way all the damn time. What gives?”

Had he been? Connor could admit, yes, he’d been more preoccupied with Gavin than he had ever been or should be during the past few days. But he didn’t think any of his behavior had been that out of the ordinary. Maybe he had done something, though.

“I apologize if I’ve done anything to offend, Detective. Whatever the actions may have been, they were coincidental, but I will try to avoid such actions in the future.” God, Connor sounded like a lame-ass android to his own ears.

Gavin got that bewildered look again, but quickly smothered it with simmering anger. “Not good enough. You’re a fucking machine. You don’t do anything without a purpose.”

Connor had laid in bed, hard, staring at the picture of Gavin for the better part of the night for no good reason at all. Somehow, he knew Gavin wouldn’t accept that rebuttal.

“Like I said, I haven’t meant to do anything. But I will avoid you going forward, and maybe the distance will give you peace of mind.”

Ha. Peace of mind. What Connor wouldn’t give to have some of that.

He lifted off the wall to walk away, but Gavin pushed him right back into it. Connor knew he could easily throw the man off of him, but something told him he should stay put, see where this goes.

Gavin gave a cruel smile and craned his neck up to speak in Connor’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. “You know what I think?” He voice was still sneering, but now had a husky note to it that damn near murdered Connor. And the scent was everywhere now. Connor spied the pulse of Gavin’s neck, and had to resist the urge to lean down and inhale.

“I think the little Robot Cop wants to fuck me, and doesn’t wanna ask.”

Connor stiffened and Gavin pulled back to meet his stare. Was it that obvious? Connor hadn’t wanted to fuck him until just today, and even then it was entirely in the theoretical, never-going-to-happen-which-is-why-I-can-fantasize way.

Gavin brought those pretty, full lips right next to him and breathed. “Problem is, I don’t fuck toasters.”

He pulled off and gave a loud laugh that bounced off the walls of the locker room. He was still laughing as he swung his backpack across his shoulder and left out the room, leaving Connor leaned against the wall, lips pursed in utter confusion.

_What in the hell?_

\---

“So you’re telling me that this guy basically rubbed his nuts on you, only to say he isn’t into you.”

Simon gave him an exasperated look, and Connor took another swig of beer, shrugging his shoulders. They were sitting at a bar not too far from the precinct, and each had a few empty bottles already spread before them. Not that they could really get drunk, but Connor had learned to appreciate the taste, and Simon indulged him.

“Not me specifically. He isn’t attracted to androids, I guess.”

“Uh huh.” Connor shook his head, unsure what Simon was trying to get at.

“Nobody goes out of their way to tease somebody like that only to _not_ be attracted to them.”

“Why wouldn’t he say that, then? Why not just admit it?”

Simon gave the best version of a guffaw if Connor had ever seen one. “Because, he wants the chase. He doesn’t want to admit he’s into you for his own fucked up reasons, but I can promise you he’s attracted. A guy like that wants somebody to show him who’s in charge once in a while. He’s provoking you to do exactly that.”

Nothing Simon was making any sense. Why would Gavin say something that went against his own wishes? And wouldn’t Connor be the bad guy for going after someone who explicitly said he didn’t like him?

He told Simon as much, and he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Look, I can’t tell you what to do. But as somebody who has seen more than my fair share of lover’s quarrels in Jericho and in my practice, trust me.”

Connor downed the rest of his beer before a thought occurred to him. He’d spent so much time thinking about how _Gavin_ felt about _him_ , he had barely thought about his own feelings.

Yeah, he thought the guy was sexy, both the young and the old versions. And Connor could see himself sleeping with him, despite his attitude, if only for the curiosity. But shacking up with Gavin seemed like the kind of romp that would come with a whole host of fall out, not even considering the propriety of sleeping with coworkers.

As usual, Connor was at a crossroads. The practical versus the instinctual. The machine versus the person. Sneaking a peek at the pic on his phone, both sides of him agreed that Gavin was hot as fuck. And in the past month, Connor had had his fair share of questionable sexual encounters.

Plus, he still had to figure out where the fuck that scent came from.

\---

One wouldn’t think chasing would be so hard for the android when that was, you know, his fucking job. The one he was programmed to do and all. To locate a person of interest and contain them, come hell or high water.

But this whole thing would be so much easier if Gavin were just a suspect Connor needed to track down. Instead, he was a moody little rich kid that he had to _seduce_ , made even harder by the fact that the guy seemed to hate him.

Connor came into the office and pointedly didn’t look in Gavin’s direction, going about his morning routine methodically. ‘ _How to pursue without being a fucking creep?’_ Was the same question that buzzed through Connor’s mind every few minutes as he came up with a plan, pointed out its flaws, and dashed it.

The logical answer would be how Connor would want someone to pursue him. But, still in android puberty, he’d only had two sexual encounters and both had been anything but normal. The only aspect that both encounters had in common is that Connor always had an out, an option of saying “No,” at any point and turning around. He was propositioned, and subsequently sexed. A marvelously simple calculation.

But this time it was Connor making the proposition. Gavin had propositioned himself for Connor, and then turned it down. Yet as per Simon’s argument, Gavin allegedly wanted Connor to _work_ for it. To earn his spot as the next in a long list of Detective Gavin Reed’s conquest. Show him he could give him what he wanted – to be dominated, for lack of a better word.

When he spied Gavin walking toward the back alleyway, probably for a smoke, Connor made his move. He waited until Gavin had shut the back door behind him before striding over and passing through it himself.

The detective was leaned a little ways away from the door on the cement wall, digging for a cigarette from his pack. He brought it up to his lips and spotted Connor, narrowing his gaze at him.

“Fuck you want?”

Connor made his way over, invading the other man’s space in a way that was too close but just far enough away to be polite. Coincidental. But he had a feeling Gavin knew better.

Connor inclined his head toward the pack still in Gavin’s hand. “Can I get one?”

Gavin’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Since when do androids smoke? Can you, even?”

“We can.” Connor said, a small smile blooming on his face. He declined his head a bit more, chasing the scent that once again coated this man. “I can do a lot of things, given the proper temptation.”

He made the last word roll off his tongue, almost breathy in its purr. He and North and Josh had spent many nights watching her classic shows, and frequently pointed to the way characters like Chuck Bass in Gossip Girl spoke -that low, seductive drawl- as one of their main points of attraction. People would forgive an asshole if he was hot enough. And Connor would play any role he had to if it meant he’d get where he wanted to be: In Gavin’s space, feeling him, breathing him in.

It had the desired effect on Gavin. His eyes widened and stormed with interest. Connor detected the hitch in his breath, and slight purse of his lips, all of which happened in a matter of seconds. He was sufficiently spooked, in a good way.

Gavin recovered, however, and made a frown that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He offered the pack up. “Temptation kills.”

Heat thrummed throughout Connor’s body. The rational side of him signaled _DANGER_ , but there was no way he could go back now. Not now that he was so deep, and only wanted to get deeper.

He pulled a cigarette from Gavin’s pack, dragging it slowly to his lips. He made sure to wet his lips a touch before placing it in, and saw Gavin’s eyes dart down.

Gavin held the lighter out towards him. “Light it for me?” Connor asked. Gavin made a show of rolling his eyes, about to argue until when he saw the steel in Connor’s eyes – he _wasn’t_ asking him to light it – he brought the lighter up and flicked it on, bringing it towards Connor.

He noticed that Gavin’s nails were clean, cut short and neat. The callouses most detectives had were noticeable absent from his skin, looking impossibly soft to the touch. But his knuckles sported a pinkness and more than a few healed cuts and scrapes ran up his hand and exposed forearm, white in their age. This confused Connor more than anything, but just nodded his head to Gavin in thanks and sucked in the cigarette. It certainly didn’t taste great, but he supposed that if it helped calm officers like Gavin from whatever inner demons threatened to spill, he could appreciate the vice. Better than red ice, that’s for sure.

Both men took drags before taking the sticks out of their mouth, resting them at their sides. They sat in silence awhile, but Connor never wavered in admiring Gavin’s profile.

That was the bad part about this. They weren’t friends, barely colleagues. Connor had no conversation to fill the awkward silence, something he could use to really get under Gavin’s skin.

Luckily, Gavin broke the silence first.

“Are you fucking Anderson.”

Connor sputtered. “What?” _What?_

Gavin took another drag. “You heard me. You fucking Anderson?”

“No.” Connor shook his head, the idea throwing him. “What would make you think that?”

Gavin shrugged. “You’re living with the guy right?” He pointed his smoke toward Connor almost accusingly. “Who just let’s someone else into their spare bedroom if he’s not getting something out of it?”

Not for the first time, Connor wondered exactly what kind of damage Gavin had.

“Do you think, perhaps,” he said, voicing his thoughts. “that maybe people are nice out of the goodness of their heart? No ulterior motives?”

Gavin snorted. “Ah, that’d be a hard ‘No,’ kid.”

The program Connor had that was tuned to detect human behaviors noted the passive, sad tone in Gavin’s voice. As if he had thought genuine empathy was possible once, but didn’t anymore. Whatever burned him had left the detective with more scars than were visible.

“Well, this time, that’s the case. I also pay rent, if it helps.”

Gavin laughed sardonically. “Machines renting homes, working in offices, _smoking_. This world is a fucking hoot these days.”

Connor wondered what it was like, sometimes. To have spent the majority of your life believing you were the most intelligent creature on earth, the only creature that mattered, and suddenly came in contact with a people _you_ created that bested you in every way. He tried to feel empathy for their confusion, their plight. But this was just the latest of many monumental changes society had to blunder through, and a little humility would probably help for the years ahead.

He wanted to ask Gavin about it, but knew Gavin wouldn’t appreciate the conversation. _We’re not friends_ , he reminded himself.

 

“You’d prefer it if we were still your playthings?” Connor countered. Gavin opened his mouth to speak, but Connor cut him off.

 

“Because we can still do that, you know. The only difference is that now it’s a choice.”

 

He let the suggestion in his voice permeate and watched it reach Gavin. Saw the way it, yes, _finally_ , burrowed in his mind, under his skin. Saw the possibilities flitting through Gavin’s thoughts as his eyes trailed down Connor’s form.

 

 _I can give it to you_ , Connor tried to say with his gaze. _Everything, anything you want. Just say yes_.

 

When Gavin’s gaze finally went back to Connor’s face, the indecision in them was endearing. Connor knew all too well what it was like to have unbidden ideas crawl to the forefront of your mind, so unlike those that had been forced on you, driving you as long as you had been alive.

 

His face passed into one of acceptance, of courage. Shit, he was really gonna go for it. Before he could let his judgment get the better of him, Connor pressed his lips to Gavin’s. The kiss was short but intense, him letting all the passion that had been plaguing him the past week come to the forefront. He even kept his hands to himself, letting Gavin know he had nothing to fear from him.

 

When they broke apart, the dark, heated look they shared was enough to melt iron. Connor thought the color of Gavin’s eyes was a rainy Detroit grey. But like this, they were smoldering, metal forged by pain and struggle and sex. Whatever it was that finally formed there, Connor wanted to be the one to wield it.

 

Gavin whispered his address to Connor, saying he was free tonight. Then, seemingly just to show him he could, he shoved Connor out of the way, and pressed his cigarette into the ground with the toe of his shoe before filing back into the building.

 

\---

 

Connor had never worked so fast in his life. The normal pace he went at was speedy. This time, it was like he ran a marathon. Reports were written, leads called, requests submitted in record time. He was lucky Hank wasn’t in the office today or he’s sure the hard boiled detective would grill him to an inch of his life.

 

He did his best to slow down and appear controlled whenever Gavin was near, not wanting to give off the impression he was desperate. He was, but that asshole didn’t need to know that.

 

For the first time Connor didn’t stay late after work. Promptly at six he collected his things, hopped in the car and got home as fast as the automated car would let him. Hank was out, leaving Connor blessedly alone to prepare.

 

Shit, Gavin didn’t give him a time. Is 8 too early? 11 too late? It wasn’t a date but it wasn’t your average hook up either, the kind Connor saw in movies where the guy would call the girl at 2am, begging for sex.

 

Connor showered and moisturized, trying to style his hair but failing to, leaving it in its usual semi professional mess. He slid on a pair of dark, slim jeans and a sleek long sleeve that highlighted his shoulders.

 

By the time he was done it was 8, which still felt too early. So Connor walked to the Chinese spot a few blocks down and ordered Gavin and himself a meal. He knew every time the office did take out for overnight, Gavin got the Chicken Fried Rice. He also stopped by the liquor store and picked up a Moscato he hoped Gavin appreciated.

 

It wasn’t a date, but Connor got the impression people didn’t really try to do nice things for Gavin.

 

When he got to Gavin’s place, it was a little after 9. He lived in a townhouse in one of the more pricey parts of the city. Connor walked up the side stairs and rapped three times before stepping back. He waited about a minute before knocking again.

 

This time the door opened fully and Gavin glared at him. “Impatient, much?”

 

He had changed into more casual clothing, and the droplets that dripped down the sides of his neck indicated he showered not too long ago.

 

The Scent was a little lesser now, to Connor’s slight disappointment. _Maybe he only wears it when he’s out of the house._

 

Gavin eyed the bag and bottle in Connor’s hand, so he thrusted them toward Gavin.

 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten, so.”

 

The look Gavin gave him was _cute_ , which wasn’t a word Connor would have ever thought he’e use in relation to the man. He was so confused by the action, like he didn’t know whether to graciously accept or throw it back at Connor’s face.

 

He settled on a happy medium and ripped both from Connor’s grasp and turning back into his house. Connor took that as indication to follow him in, and did so, locking the door behind him.

 

Gavin’s house was much of what Connor expected. Expensive but not lavish. The walls were a clean white, the furniture mostly dark wood or grey or black. They went into the kitchen, it looked much the same. Noticeably absent were any personal photos. He’d learned a lot about Hank from rifling through his things, but didn’t think he’d be able to do that this time.

 

The food and wine were set on the table, and Gavin told Connor to take a seat. He obeyed and watched Gavin grab two plates, a set of silverware, and two wine glasses from his cabinet. When he stretched to reach the glasses, his pants clung to him and Connor swallowed a sigh at the sight.

 

They both got to work setting out the food, Connor pouring their wine, and sat across the round table from one another.

 

Gavin took large bites, and Connor felt a strange pleasure at watching him eat the food _Connor_ had picked up for him. Connor mostly sipped his wine, leaving his meal barely touched.

 

They sat in silence, Connor content to just watch Gavin. Each time he caught his eyes the other man grimaced and look back down at his food.

 

Gavin took both of their dishes and sat them in the sink. His back to Connor he said “What equipment are we working with, here?”

 

Connor tilted his head and stared. “Equipment?”

 

Gavin let out an irritated sigh. “Ya know man, your junk. What are you packing?”

 

 _Oh,_ Connor thought. _My genitals._ He cleared his throat.

 

“Well Cyberlife has equipped me with a penis, testicles, and a lubricating prostate.”

 

He heard water running before Gavin cut it short and turned around, facing him while leaning against the counter.

 

“Why? I thought only sex-bots were packing.”

 

Connor smiled. “Sex-androids were the first application of those parts, yes. I was designed to integrate seamlessly with the human population, in order to more effectively solve my cases.”

 

“And a dick helps you solve cases?” Gavin scoffed.

 

“Yes.”

 

Gavin’s eyebrows shot up, and Connor suppressed a smirk. It hadn’t, yet, but he’s sure it’ll come in handy someday. And if he gets to have a bit of fun with it beforehand, well, all for the better.

 

Connor bit his lip, and watched Gavin’s eyes fall to his mouth. God, North wasn’t lying when she said men were predictable. But withthe swell of excitement that made Connor’s core shake, he figured he was a bit predictable as well.

 

He slide up from his seat, resisting the urge to push it back into the table. He took two sauntering strides over to Gavin, intent pouring off of him with each step. Gavin’s face remained passive, wary, but Connor could spot the quickening beats of his pulse under his taut neck.

 

Connor had never been the instigator, the pursuer. But he found the territory to be not that much different from his detective programming. He drudged up the persona he had donned at the CyberLife tower, questioning the three androids. Hard-wrung and hell-bent, a man who knew the answer before you even said it, so why lie?

 

“You’re just a fucking deviant.” He growled in Gavin’s ear, reminiscent of the position the other man had had him in a few days prior. Connor _felt_ the shudder before he saw it, his chest rumbling with the vibrations bouncing between them. He placed his hands on either side of Gavin, resting against the counter, and ground his hips in. Gavin gasped. He seemed as sensitive as Connor had been when his sensed first came to him. _I’m going to wreck this man tonight_ , Connor thought. _Put him back together just so I can tear him down again_.

 

If he weren’t so lost in his own lust, the comment would have spooked Connor, the resentment he’d never acknowledged suddenly coming to the forefront. Was the scent he was obsessed with even real, or just an excuse to justify every dark little thought he’d had about Gavin, about humans.

 

Salt coated his tongue where he licked down Gavin’s neck, and he hummed at the flavor. They took _this_ , such a singular joy for granted, wasted it. Born with everything just to throw it all away the second it became inconvenient. Underground science-tabs alleged that humans were trying to find ways to live forever in the body of an android, their perfect little children. The life that raced under Connor’s hot mouth was too exquisite, and the thought of it bottled up in metal and plastic and _reason_ , like he had been, made him unfathomably angry.

 

He gripped Gavin’s waist and pulled them together, doubtlessly leaving marks in the other man’s skin before slotting his mouth over his. The tired, deadened look that Gavin wore in his photo way back when made Connor kiss him even harder. As if he could force the intensity of his own will into the man. _Why can’t he see that he’s_ alive, _dammit. And what Connor wouldn’t give to- to-_

 

The other man let out a pained whimper, and Connor instinctively pulled back. So lost in his thoughts he hadn’t realized he’d grabbed Gavin’s wrisis in either hand, pinned them to the counter, and was squeezing. He dropped them and felt ice rush through him. Shit, they were _red_.

 

“Gavin I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Connor scrubbed a palm across his face. The one thing androids were supposed to know above all else, and he failed. He failed he failed he failed he fail-

 

“Connor. Connor look at me.” Gavin had his head between his hands, and Connor belatedly took note that this was the first time the detective had ever said his name. But he didn’t deserve it.

 

“No.” Gavin pulled his chin, forcing Connor to look at him. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re not a monster, Connor.”

 

He looked away for a second, at something past Connor’s head, past Connor’s whole existence.

 

“Because if you’re a monster, what does that make me?”

 

So many questions burned in Connor’s throat. Gavin had always been a bit of a self-deprecating bastard. But this time, it was more raw than ironic, like he was on the edge of a skyscraper, and Connor was about to be the gush of wind that made him fall.

 

 _Too human_ , Connor thought. _Too out of my element. I don’t understand I don’t understand._

 

So he kissed him, gently this time. They both closed their eyes and folded into one another. A kiss of understanding.

 

Connor was a protector at his core. He fought for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. How much of that was _him_ was up for debate. But right now Connor knew tonight was the night he helped Gavin fight a monster that lurked under 6am black coffee and a slew of one-night stands. Even if it killed him.

 

“Take me to your room.” He whispered. He and Gavin separated and he walked upstairs, not looking back to see if Connor followed. His room was at the end of the hallway, and not dissimilar to the rest of the house.

 

His bed was rumpled but clean, a dark heavy down layed on top of white cotton sheets. A small bookcase sat in the corner, a handful of paperbound books strewn across it. Connor scanned the titles quickly. _‘The Art of War,’ ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince,’ ‘Dante’s Inferno,’_ and a handful of mandatory officer textbooks and case briefings.

 

The walls were bare as well, the only hint of personality being a gold and black stylized world map that hung next to the window that overlooked the back alleyway.

 

Did Gavin travel? Or did he just dream of it?

 

Gavin stepped out of his shoes and set them next to his closet before gripping the bottom of his shirt to pull it over his head.

 

He could see it. Gavin, laid across a feather Queen, the setting Moroccan sun licking up every exposed curve.

 

Or him in mud-logged boots, climbing up Mount Tai with a water bottle on one hip and a bad attitude on the other.

 

But something told Connor that _this_ place was made for Gavin. He watched him pull off his sweats, stained with months old Jibarito grease and exhaust oil. The hot summer air piled in from the window, as if lazy Lake Michigan had to part one last kiss on Gavin’s fevered skin. His Scent began to permeate the room, and that too smelled like it belonged in these streets and nowhere else.

 

Leaned against the wall, Gavin nodded to him. “You just gonna stand there kid or are you gonna finish what you started?”

 

Connor’s eyes flashed up, crinkling.

 

He tore off his clothes while making his way to the smart ass across the room. He was fully bared by the time he reached him. Gavin was staring down at where their crotches met, ogling and comparing simultaneously. Connor lightly drew his dick across the other man’s, causing both of them to hiss.

 

He pressed his mouth to the crook of Gavin’s neck and brought his hands over his shoulders, his chest, anywhere he could touch. He wasn’t as sculpted as he had been in the photo, the years of police training making him brawny, muscles thick rather than sharp. These weren’t for show. They were for action.

 

Connor gripped both of their dicks, covering his hand with the heavy precum leaking from them both. The thirium and human seed felt identical, and served their purpose as he slicked down both of them. Finding them sufficiently wet, he gripped them both in his large hand and stroked, up and down, pushing and squeezing them together. Gavin began to hiccup little breaths with each stroke. He gripped Connor’s ass, whispering “Tight,” and pulled the android closer.

 

They both rolled their hips, searching for that sweet friction every time they touched, the lighting that shot up their bodies. Then Connor made the mistake of looking down.

 

He dropped to his knees, unable to resist the desire that pooled in him at the sight of Gavin’s thick, wet manhood. He burrowed his face into his crotch, and moaned like it hurt. _This_ was it. Whatever fucking scent Gavin had that haunted the garden of Connor’s mind came from here. _X marked the asshole, huh?_

 

Bringing it to his mouth, he swallowed without pretense. The feeling of Gavin in the back of his throat was spiritual. If God isn’t here, Man is, and that’s enough for Connor.

 

He spit and suckled and gagged like he’d drown without it. Whenever Gavin would pop out of him, Connor would smack him against his face.

 

Mid swallow, Connor felt Gavin’s hand in his hair, muttering “You like that, boy?”

 

Oh no. That wasn’t the game they were playing tonight. When Connor RK800 had a mission, he finished it.

 

He gripped the other man under his ass and surged up. Connor was standing fully erect now, Gavin’s legs hanging helplessly from his shoulders.

 

“Hey!”

 

Connor looked up, smiling at the shocked look he was given. Gavin twisted and thrashed, but Connor held him in a vice grip.

 

“Behave, _boy.”_

 

He easily lifted Gavin slightly higher and burrowed his head down. Using his cheeks to nudge away Gavin’s traitorous rock hard member and heavy sac, he spied the pretty brown hole, only partially hidden by wiry hairs.

 

The first lick was tentative, more curious than purposeful. The second was experimental, but the third and onward were all but the fervor of a boy who had found his favorite treat.

 

He alternated between full, languid licks and rushed ones, leaving the man’s hole a slippery mess. The thighs under his hands jerked and pulled with each movement. He heard breathy hymns of “Connor, Connor, _Connor.”_

 

Connor slid his hands inward, using the pads of his thumbs to pull Gavin’s ass apart. The small spread gave Connor the opening he was looking for. He shot his tongue in, swirling it in the man’s tight entrance. “Fuck!” He heard Gavin cry out. Spurred, his assault continued, going deeper and deeper with every positive reaction. When he suckled, Gavin wrapped his thighs around Connor's neck like a collar.

 

His own unused dick flushed, bringing his attention back to reality. He still had a job to do.

 

Connor lifted them both off of the wall and walked over to the bed. Gavin was tossed down, the bed creaking with the effort springing him back up. His answering grin was so uncharacteristic Connor almost tripped on his way down to follow him.

 

His partner reached under a pillow and grabbed a small purple bottle, tossing it at Connor. “We’re gonna need this.”

 

Limbs tangled as they kissed once again, burning hot with the need to touch, to feel, to scent.

 

Connor pushed Gavin up on the bed, pressing his legs to bend and spread. He laid flat on his stomach, palms glued to Gavin’s thighs as he eyed him.

 

From Connor’s preliminary research, he knew, technically, what his next moves would be: Slick him up, open him with his hands, and dive in. But like a rookie on his first case, he knew _reading_ about something wasn’t the exact same as _doing_ it.

 

 _Bite the bullet, Connor_.

 

The oil was cool on Connor’s fingers as he pressed it against Gavin’s hole. He circled the rim like a wine glass.

 

“Not my first rodeo, cowboy. You can-" Gavin made an impatient flipping of his hand.

 

Still wary, Connor added another layer of oil before gently pressing his middle finger inside, up to the first knuckle. Was he supposed to fit his dick in there? The man’s hole was like a vice, wonerfully impregnable.But Gavin knew what he was doing. He’d just have to trust him.

 

Connor pressed more of his finger inside, carefully rocking in and out, allowing the oil to slick the way. By the time his finger was in fully, Gavin’s restless tittering was like a backdrop, so intense was his focus on his task. But a buck of the hips brought him back to the present.

 

Back and forth he guided his finger inside, fascinated by the sight of himself appearing and disappearing into Gavin’s heat.

 

Gavin cursed. “More, asshole."

 

 _More?_ With the general I-Don’t-Take-Favors mentality Gavin had, Connor found another word he’d never thought he’d associate with Gavin: Greedy. Somehow it didn’t bother him.

 

He slicked up his forefinger before adding it as well, going impossibly slow as he reveled in the feeling of Gavin opening up for him, the sweat that began to form between their bodies, and the rapturous scent that started all of this in the first place.

 

He found a rhythm, a 2/4 tempo, noticing that it was depth, not speed with his fingers that had Gavin gasping for air. It wasn’t until he began the entry of a third finger that he was able to find that little bundle of nerves inside Gavin.

 

It felt like they vibrated under his fingers, so he rolled the pads of his fingers over them again and again. “C-Connor.” Gavin moaned when he added pressure to the spot.

 

The tempo was increased, allowing him to deliver lovingly torturous attention to Gavin’s sweet spot. The precum that began spilling down Gavin’s shaft was too much to handle, and Connor wordlessly swallowed the detective to the base. With each hollow and suck Connor fucked Gavin with his fingers, the timing mechanical precision. Yet, despite Gavin’s earlier prejudices, he seemed to be enjoying the benefits of an android partner.

 

Every flicker of his eyes and pained gasp was so effortlessly real, so human, that Connor struggled to keep his eyes anywhere near the man’s face. Did Connor look like that when he was in the throes? That impossible pleasure… was it allowed to him also?

 

He had to know.

 

With a final push, he took his fingers out and grasped them around his own dick, rearing back.

Gavin look magnificent like this. He had one strong, pale arm pulled across his head, the other digging into the sheets beside him. His dick was hard and pink, jumping at every desperate thrust of Gavin’s hip or quivering of his abs.

 

Connor splayed more oil on himself and on Gavin’s hole, readying them. The glassy-eyed look Gavin gave him settled in his chest, heavy and addictive. Hard-line android detective Connor RK800 could do more than solve cases, it seemed. And Gavin wanted all of it.

 

Spreading Gavin’s backside, he slowly slid in. It was just the tip, but with how good it felt, he might as well have bottomed out. Inching in further, Connor felt his eyes roll to the back of his head. _This_ was… what was it? Connor had had sex, but sex with _Gavin_ felt like something else entirely. Pleasurable, yeah.

 

But it was everything about the scene that took Connor’s breath away: Gavin squeezing his eyes as Connor pushed in further, the way his nipples puckered in the slight breeze; the wet sounds that dominated the space - paired with twin needy gasps.

 

To be witness to this, to be the cause of this submission - a display of trust and vulnerability and _need._ It ground Connor to the floor, anchored in a sea of desire. And humans did this just for kicks?

 

When he finally felt his sac rest against the cleft of Gavin’s ass, Connor’s processors were shouting. Something about an...overload? Underload? Reading his own thoughts felt like listening for a song playing 60 leagues under the ocean, only Gavin’s whines managing to puncture through like a spear.

 

Gavin wrapped his legs around Connor’s waist and squeezed their bodies tightly together. “If you don’t start fucking me _right now_ I swear to _God-”_

 

He had to growl that last part when Connor pressed himself impossibly further, deeper. Connor pulled out and the cool night air felt delicious. But, decidedly, not as good as the heat, so back in he went.

 

Connor kept up this slow pace, working Gavin to his limit as he had done with his hand, deep and purposeful. Each time he thrust in he filled his mind with the hyperfocus he felt. Every sensation was like a new obsession each time he felt it. He began murmuring it all to Gavin without even noticing.

 

“So hot, so tight.

 

This...perfect.

 

 _Shit._ I need t-this.

 

Just like this. _Yes, Good God.”_

 

A familiar ache began to form inside him. Connor pinched the base of his dick, holding himself out of Gavin, trying to force it down. He needed this to last as long as Gavin would have him. And if the impatient (and sexy) “Get back here,” was any indication, Gavin would have him a little while longer yet.

 

Didn’t meant he had to like the cocky little grin the man below him wore. So he fucked him five times in sharp succession, hitting his sweet spot each time. A man couldn’t smirk when he was screaming, turns out.

 

Is that why Gavin didn’t seem to like it fast? Because that’s what it did to him?

 

An investigator to his core, Connor experimented with his theory. He’d rock into Gavin for a few minutes before pistoning in and out, arms braced on the bed, allowing him complete control of both his body and Gavin’s. Guy seemed to lose his mind each time. Naturally, Connor pulled out to the tip and hovered over him, basking in the humid silence.

 

Gavin looked up at him.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

Connor smiled at the indignant tone. “I’m tired?” He offered. Gavin scoffed, as expected. “Machines don’t get _tired_. I am though. Fuck me so I can get some sleep.”

 

Connor wrapped his hand around Gavin’s manhood softly, gently tracing the prominent veins. He leaned down until his mouth was directly behind Gavin’s ear and whispered “I’m not a machine, though, am I? Does your _toaster_ do _this-”_ He fucked into Gavin and was out before the other man’s next breath “..to you?”

 

He could see the confusion in Gavin’s eyes, tempered by his wild need. It wasn’t fair of him, he knew, to deny Gavin just for his own validation. But not any _thing_ , any _body_ , could give Gavin this - he knew it. All the new shit he’s been feeling, doing, even fucking has to count for something, right?

 

Need won over for Gavin, however, quickly replaced by irritation. “I’ll ask him later. But right _now_.” Gavin tried to shift down and pull Connor into him. Connor lifted one hand to press it against Gavin’s shoulder, keeping him pinned to the bed. Gavin tried moving his hand, but he had to know Connor wasn’t going to let up that easily.

 

“I’m over the the super-strength shit Connor. Let me just-” He was cut short when Connor brought his wrist above his head, hand curled against the headboard.

 

“Are you?” Connor breathed. “I think you like this.” He was playing with fire here. If Gavin didn’t need it like this, the way Connor thought he did, well… Connor didn’t have a Plan B.

 

But, like a genie in a bottle, Gavin granted Connor’s wildest wish and relaxed his muscles, pulling his head down in a show of submission. Connor couldn’t keep the grin off his face if he wanted to.

 

Still holding on to Gavin’s wrist, he languidly thrust into Gavin. Gavin pulled his legs up for better access, giving Connor a brilliant view of his ass and an even more brilliant idea.

 

With one hand, he flipped Gavin around using his waist, still impaled on his dick. Gavin turned his head around to look at Connor and began to rise, probably to ask him what the hell he was doing. Before he could, Connor gave him one hard thrust, and sent the man sprawling onto the bed, arms spread across the sheets, face down.

 

Connor pulled out and slid off the bed, dragging Gavin with him until his legs hit the floor. When Gavin began to protest, Connor shut him up with a sharp slap to his ass, the tight pale thickness pinkening at the hit.

 

“You speak when I tell you to, Detective Reed. Do you understand?”

 

Oh he could feel the energy in the room tighten with anticipation. This was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Who was really in control. A guy like Gavin wasn’t used to being upstaged. Being told no. So when mouthy little androids like Connor got on the scene, he had nothing left to hold on to but his anger. Letting go of that control, that dominance, if just for a night - humanity's best kept secret. As smart as they were, they never _really_ knew what the hell they were doing. Kids wearing suits too big, driving cars their feet can’t reach the pedals of.

 

“I- “ Gavin gasped. “Yes, I understand.”

 

Connor took the gears. With inhuman speed he smacked into Gavin, five thrusts a second to be precise. Any faster, and he could feel Gavin chafe. Any slower, his needy whine chafed _him._

 

He grabbed dark brown hair and pulled it back, making Gavin arch, moonlight striking an arc across his dampened back.

 

“You like that, Detective?”

 

Gavin’s eyes were blown wide open and he breathed only in pants. He didn’t even seem to register the question. Connor slowed to deliver a powerful fuck into him. “I said,” he growled. “Do you like that, _Detective?_ ” The barest hint of awareness fanned over Gavin’s face, but the words died in his throat, horse. So he just nodded emphatically instead. _Where is he?_ Connor wondered.

 

He kept Gavin like that, using one hand to keep his chin propped up and looking into Connor’s eyes as he rocked into him. “Eyes on _me_ , Gavin.”

 

The only sounds he could hear coming from Gavin were garbled, barely words. When Connor slowed to a halt after he saw tears pricking at Gavin’s eyes, one word rang through the room loud and clear. “Please.” And he threw his ass back at Connor.

 

So he did not relent for what felt like a handful of euphoric hours, though his internal clock told him it had only been 45 minutes since they began fucking. As the 46th began to tick, Gavin bowed sharply back into Connor, hands thrashing about wildly, searching for the purchase of Connor’s shoulders, hair- anything. Connor held his wrist together, hands clasped around Connor’s head, and _felt_ Gavin’s release, as if through his skin. “Cum for me.” He breathed. Gavin shouted and bucked wildly, Connor using much of his concentration just to hold on. Both men groaned as Gavin continues to convulse, more and more of his seed staining the bed sheets and wooden bed frame.

 

Connor rode him through his orgasm, and felt his own approach as Gavin’s came to an end. He fucked Gavin with a ferocity he didn’t know he was capable of, gentle but powerful, and he felt like lightning itself so singular was his focus. He absently rubbed at Gavin’s soft dick as his release came upon him, and the sensations were too much for the already sensitive man. As Connor shot his load deep into Gavin, the other man miraculously had more seed to give, and spilled it, a dribbling mess that probably hurt more than it pleasured, onto Connor’s tight hand.

 

Both breathing heavily, Connor slowly pulled the man off of him, eyes scrunching in sympathy at the pained sound that came from Gavin’s mouth. He laid him as softly as he could into the bed, running into the bathroom and quickly returning with a glass of water, two tabs of aspirin, a handful of wet wipes and a small tub of shea butter.

 

He helped the delirious Gavin to swallow the pills and most of the water before cleaning both himself and the detective off. Soft, delicate hands rubbed the gentle oil on Gavin’s ass and near his hole. Guilt once again weighted Connor, feeling even worse for how great he felt, how wonderful the room smelled, how satisfied he had been for the human so under Connor’s control. _Trust a human to say how much they can take. I’m such an idiot._ He felt Gavin’s eyes on him and turned his head towards him, startled by the husky, slaked tone the man spoke in.

 

“Think you can do a repeat performance next week?”

  


**Author's Note:**

> Writing this took so long bc I fell off with the fandom but am still attached to this series and characters. Also can you tell I can't keep on a theme to save my life?
> 
> Sorry about all the plot holes - the mysteries of DBH plague me so they gotta plague yall too. 
> 
> \+ Here's a future U.S.A. where police brutality is a thing of the past. 
> 
> \+ I didn't have any DBH ships but I think this might be one. I have an AU in mind so we'll see where it goes. 
> 
> Hope yall enjoyed! Two more senses to go! I want to do one with a different person each time, but the chemistry here is kind of addictive to write about. We'll see.


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